I just got back from a delightfully easy trip up and down the Pennie. I love Sunday morning road trips. It gave me my usual two hours of car time to listen to Cake (thanks Mr H!) and contemplate Life.
Specifically, why life has been so good lately. God has been showering me with gifts. Just the simple act of getting into the Silver Bullet, pressing down on the throttle and rocketing over mountains and valleys is a poetic thing. The sun was smiling on the BA today. The air was optically clear for the first time in recent memory, I could see the individual houses in Fremont when I crested the little hill East of the Cats. The wind blew all the stuff out of the air. The East Hills reared like tawny wigwams of some forgotten army over the valley. 280 twisted and stretched like the spine of a snake over the ridge of the foothills. The 92/280 interchange was as beautiful as I remembered, soaring concrete buttresses cut loose from their old-world cathedrals, caught by the zephyrs and set carefully down.
So I wondered why I get this feast of delight when people are dying in this world. Certainly not becuase I deserve to be blessed. Its hard to imagine death on a glorious morning like this. I am just grateful to be alive.
I had a lovely time at my parents' church. The message was about the Judgement, Noah and the Ark. My little sister's choir sang about Jesus. I had never seen her so serious before.